The Second Birth
by Mizerable
Summary: There comes a point in a man's life when he must question his morals, his purpose. Realizing he has neither, he must be reborn from the ashes of what he threw away. A Wasted Years prequel.
1. Ch 1: Strange Little Girl

Author's Notes: This is the prequel to my fanfic "Wasted Years" and will be featuring the character Yanagi. Should you not know who that is, I rather encourage you to check out my other story first. This story will be Itachi-centric and the plot has spoilers through vol. 16/ep. 80. Aside from that, I hope you all enjoy it. I wouldn't have even started this project if it wasn't for all the kind words everyone out there has shared with me. And, of course, much praise for Kishimoto for creating Naruto. Without his inspiration, we wouldn't be able to share this experience together.

**The Second Birth**

by Mizerable

Ch.1: Strange Little Girl

* * *

I always knew you would betray me. How fortunate I could never give you my trust from the start.

* * *

Some part of him was still very much a child, in those days. He of course knew better than to share those feelings with anyone else. He hadn't forgotten the resentment of his classmates from his school days, or from his "comrades." He was, after all, the youngest among the Anbu squad of which he was in charge. Even in his own home, he felt so much more a stranger after every absence. 

At least his baby brother hadn't changed, being nothing at all like he himself had been at such an age.

There was a hardened young man staring out from his gaze; eyes that he, too, was slowly growing to resent. No longer would they memorize the fluid grace of techniques, but left him in late night cold sweats from the after-images flickering beneath his eyelids. They were no longer memories so much as reoccurrences, leaving cold metal pressed against his palm and hot blood splashing against his skin from battlefields long since abandoned. Some of the older ninja called it a sickness—a disorder, if you will. The mind is a fragile thing, not adeptly equipped to handle all the traumas of war. Some called it being shell-shocked; the Uchiha called it "Mangekyo Sharingan."

With time, they explained, he would be able to transfer these images into the minds of his opponents--Mangekyo. He supposed he could at least find a little bit of reprieve by making someone else know of the destruction he caused, of the burden he carried. Somehow his stomach soured a bit at the thought of using such tactics against other shinobi, as the last of his honeymoon period with the art of fighting drained away. His duties rarely called for scruples anyway.

He was far away from home today, as he was many days. It was colder in this place than his village and it aggravated the hand he'd broken some time ago. He hadn't told anyone, as admitting to pain was a weakness. He was acutely aware how grievous a mistake weakness was considered within the Clan. Late on the night of that injury, he managed to set it with the emery board his mother had used to keep her nails nice. She hadn't noticed it went missing and noticed even less that his hand was wrapped the next day. Not that she really had the chance. He was gone again before she could question him.

It was times like this, however, that he realized he had done a rather poor job in repairing the damaged bone. It throbbed painfully, but now was not so much the time to contemplate his discomforts. He was in the middle of a war-torn country and the rest of his crew was nowhere to be found. An unexpected ambush had sent them scattering through the forest where the trees were too tall to see the canopy top and too wide for a man's arms to encircle. The forest floor was dusted in discarded pine needles, a light film of snow, and held the slightest hint of old blood within its soil.

An abrupt, sharp gasp sounded off to the side and he approached cautiously, weapon in hand. There he found the body of one of his squad members whose name he could not recall, the fatal wound still bubbling over like a pot of water left on the burner too long. Rustling warned him the attacker was likely nearby and he took advantage of the gigantic tree trunk to hide his form as he peered around. A form was hunched over digging through the dead man's pack. Whoever it was likely was in search of informative scrolls or secrets for who knew what purpose. He prepared his weapon and set his body to strike.

The being sat back on its haunches and something about the figure made him pause in his assault. This was not a well-trained shinobi or deadly spy. It was a little girl now gorging herself on the food she found in the pack. Skinny and pale, her hair matted in muddy, blood soaked clumps. She was only a starving child.

A child that was somehow able to kill an Anbu assassin.

"You must have been rather hungry," he spoke up, "To do such a thing."

He hadn't meant to give away his position so easily but something told him it probably wouldn't have mattered. There was something about this girl that made him think this would be different from his usual encounters.

The girl's shoulders jerked back, her eyes now glaring at him territorial and feral. They were a rich and cold indigo shade, a dusky sort of color. He made note of a chipped and drenched kunai lying by her side, staining the earth crimson. The hands that greedily clung to her meal were soaked and still dripping with her kill as she devoured the meager rations. She was no better than an animal, he silently mused. At least she wasn't eating the person she murdered.

"It's rather unfortunate that I cannot allow you to leave here alive."

Her frame was rigid now, though not so much out of fear as she more closely resembled a coiled snake ready to strike. Not that it really mattered to him, really. How she was able to kill an Anbu soldier was questionable but didn't affect his world at all. Whatever trick she had in mind would not escape his hated eyes.

He lashed out with his sword and readied it to cut through straight to bone. He hadn't anticipated her added weight, no matter how slight, to now balance on top of the extended blade. Perhaps her haggard shape was the trick in and of itself, though he wondered why his eyes weren't showing him the truth. It figures that they would betray him when he actually needed them the most.

He swung the blade upward to shake off her weight and perhaps wound her before she back flipped off the edge to avoid being sliced. It didn't surprise him that she was so quick, considering her tiny build, as she charged forward hoping to catch his unguarded midsection. He, of course, anticipated the move and swiftly brought a hand down from his sword to catch her wrist. She managed to graze his forearm with the needles she had clenched in her small hand, not that he really took note of it. With a sharp twist, he snapped the bone and flipped her over. Her back never hit the ground, though, as she planted her palm firmly against the earth and kicked him fiercely in the jaw.

It really had been unexpected, to tell the truth. He hadn't thought she could have been this strong. It just seemed impossible. He was sure her arm was broken but she didn't seem to even notice the injury. She even managed to crack his mask and he was sure to have a terrific bruise. Although, her wounded arm couldn't support her landing as she fell on the dusty snow hard enough to temporarily stun her. That would be enough.

His sword descended over her prone form before jerking to a halt above her body. White hot spasms fired along his nerves as he registered her kunai had pierced through his knee.

Lateral Collateral

Lateral Meniscus

Posterior Cruciate

Anterior Cruciate

Gone.

He knew all sorts of ways to debilitate a man. This was the first time anyone had ever injured him so severely, though. The little girl ripped the weapon out with a jerk and his leg simply gave out from beneath him. She was already lunging forward with her blade aiming for his throat, obviously not willing to let a good opportunity pass her by. He lashed out and struck her temple with the handle of his sword, hoping to put some distance between them. Her aim was thrown off now and the point of her kunai had managed to jab into his mask before she stumbled backwards from the force of his hit. The fissure expanded along the mask before the whole fell away into pieces.

This was a rare moment. His enemy rarely ever was so strong that they had enough time to even see his face. It certainly hadn't happened since he was promoted to the Anbu. But this little girl was able to use such extreme force against him, exposing him. He kept waiting for his eyes to show that she used the transformation technique to disguise her true form. How could a scrappy little girl be defeating him? He was the Uchiha prodigy. What would happen if he came back after failing his mission?

With a shudder, he collected his wits and realized he would have to use his new technique. The girl seemed disoriented from the blow to her head as blood drained down the side of her face. She raised her eyes with anger simmering in them while his Sharingan stared back. His use of Tsukiyomi Sharingan wasn't perfected yet. Jumbled images of the murders and torture he had committed flowed from his mind to her eyes. He had assumed it would stun her long enough to come in for the kill. No little girl, no matter how strong, should have been able to handle what supposedly felt like hours of death.

But she was a tricky child. His sword had cut her lip open but she still managed to avoid most of the anticipated injury. He could feel the frustration swell within now. The mental attack was supposed to do so much more damage than it had, considering how much it affected him, the user. But this girl was more or less okay. How could she handle such an assault? Was she like him? A genius from a respected clan—somehow her pitifully thin figure made him think otherwise.

His damaged knee couldn't support his frame and was threatening to give out again. The girl was flanking his side now, realizing he wouldn't be able to keep up with the movement. His back would be completely exposed to her attack. Ignoring the searing agony he was in, he forced his body to move rather awkwardly and caught her by the hair. He sharply yanked her back and skewered her with his sword. She twitched as the death throes overtook her form, and he felt himself slowly relax. The thought of succeeding sat well with him this time.

He really should have known better.

Despite its sharp edge biting into her calloused palm, the girl somehow managed to use a strength beyond human comprehension to snap the blade in half. He hadn't known any man to have such power, least of all while dying. But she fell off the jagged remains before swinging 'round and managed to bury the broken piece of metal deep between his ribs. His breath was ripped from his body as his punctured lung collapsed around the steel shard. Blood swelled in his mouth and he landed with a thud against the earth before he could get a word out.

His eyes were dark now and tunneling. He could still make out the shape of the little girl laying a mere few feet away from him. So this was what it was like, he thought, death. It really was simple.

"Why?" he choked, "Why are you so strong?"

Somehow her face was still so clear even though everything else was fading. She was a horrible, bloodied mess and looked all so very tired, yet something about her expression seemed content. "I don't wanna die," she murmured, a sleepy and satisfied smile seemed glaring on her stained face. Had he ever felt that way?

Content.

The Anbu team regrouped and met up with the second squad to sweep through the area. All enemies had been terminated thus far but two members, including a squad captain, were still missing. The smell of blood was strong in the air and it wasn't much of a surprise when the first body was discovered. One of their own had been taken down and that was rather surprising.

Or it would have been, had they not found the mess not too far from the corpse. It hadn't seemed possible but there was the captain lying on a bed of scarlet snow, his skin tinged blue from the cold. Right by his body was that of a terribly injured little girl. It wasn't so uncommon for children to be caught up in these wars, especially skinny little unfortunates like her. Whatever happened here, the enemy must have been terribly powerful.

"Check his eyes," one of the Anbu stated, "The enemy might have tried to take his Sharingan."

One of the shinobi knelt down and rolled the captain onto his back. Tugging the eyelids apart, he found dilated eyes both still secured in the sockets. Suddenly the eye being examined focused on the person hovering above him. Opening his mouth, only red trickled out.

"He's alive!" the soldier announced, "Itachi's still alive!"

The medical-nin began buzzing about him, making note of how severe the injuries were.

"Who did this to you?" another asked, "Did you see who it was?"

Itachi blinked, then glanced over at the little girl across the way while she stared right back at him. He knew she was trying to reach for her kunai while not bringing attention to herself. But he was certain she already knew she wouldn't be able to take on this many Anbu in her present state, no matter how much power lay hidden in her bones.

_I don't wanna die._

"Itachi, who attacked you?" the question came again. He could tell his shirt was being ripped open and someone was working on removing that broken piece of sword from his chest, saying something about needing more than a healing jutsu to recovery completely. Surgery? Someone was going over to the girl now. Were they going to ask her? Would they believe her if she even confessed to it? There was no reason not to, he supposed.

What would happen to the girl, if they knew? They would execute her, of course. He had tried the same thing and look at how far that got him. What was going to happen to him, though? He would be returning home from his mission as a failure. He lost in combat for the first time. He was no longer a perfect soldier or a perfect killer. She was staring right at him still, even as someone started asking her questions. They were different questions, though, then what he had been asked. What was her name? What village was she from? Had she ever gone to a school? Was it a ninja academy?

They suspected her. The fact that she wasn't answering them at all wasn't letting them feel any less wary about her. What would she tell them, though? Yes, I killed a man. Why? I was hungry. Why did I wound the other man? I felt threatened. I…

_I don't wanna die._

"I didn't see…" Itachi was startled by his own weakened voice, "I didn't see him, Kakashi-san."

The Anbu kneeling by the girl looked in Itachi's direction, seeming suspicious still. Glancing down at the girl once more, he decided not to pursue the matter further. If anyone wasn't going to lie, it was Itachi. He certainly wouldn't defend anyone who put him in such a terrible state. Kakashi knew very well that Itachi followed the code of a shinobi perhaps a little too closely. So this little kid was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, huh?

"Get a medic to look at her," Kakashi ordered.

Itachi could see the surprise in her eyes and perhaps, had he the experience to recognize it, he could have more readily understood the gratitude. He did, however, notice her lips mouthing silent words to him.

"Why did you protect me?"

Why? Did he know why? Perhaps he felt ashamed to admit that he lost for the first time. Or maybe he wanted to avenge himself on his own terms. Maybe he wondered about a little girl that was unaffected by the death and chaos he had imparted on her mind. But truthfully? Truthfully, he had…

_I wanted to feel something again._

Somehow he wasn't surprised that all he could register was the pain.

To be continued...


	2. Ch 2: Blank Page

Ch. 2: Blank Page

"But _whyyy_?"

"Because he's very sleepy. We mustn't wake him, right?"

His eager brother whining near the door was almost a comfort to him, though the sounds faded as the child was shooed away by their mother. What a travesty it would be for his sibling to learn his idolized big brother royally fucked up and shamed the family. He needed to get out of this place before he actually heard it from the elders, or worse, his father. Granted he had never received such a lecture before from either party, this was the first time he actually gave them good reason. Of course verbal dissection would be on their agendas now. 

But here he was, laid out on his futon with a leg that was next to useless to go with the lung that was only working fifty percent, at best. In his state of half-dreamt haze, he swore he heard a mention of Tsunade coming to look at him at some point. Perhaps he wouldn't have to bear the scorn of his Clan for too long. They weren't so foolish as to leave their precious commodity in such a worthless state. It was fortunate that they most likely convinced the great Tsunade-sama to even make a house call. There was no real surprise, though, that they kept him hidden away in the Uchiha manor rather than a hospital. If it ever got out that the Uchiha Prodigy lost in combat, who knew how far the Clan would fall once the old gossiping bints were through. There wouldn't be a street corner left where an Uchiha could stand without appearing somehow "less" than before.

And it was no one's fault but his own.

* * *

"Is this really such a good idea? Keeping him cooped up like that…" the mother pondered aloud. She finally had convinced her youngest child to go outside and play, her mood dimming considerably now that she could voice her inner worries.

"The doctor said it would be better this way," her husband answered, "The medical staff thought he would be more comfortable if he could recuperate in his own home. The poor boy barely gets to stay here, as is."

"Even so…"

"I know," he could feel her anxiety, "With his lung in that state, you would think they would at least have him on some kind of machine."

"That blood makes him 'advanced,' not immortal."

The silence swelled as both parents stewed over the real reason their son was denied an extended stay at the hospital, despite its necessity. On the surface, it would seem they were just expecting more and more impossible things from the prestigious Uchiha. However, it would seem a lot more politics and human weakness were tied into the decision. If a boy whose power might even rival that of the Hokage was brutally injured in combat and his attacker was still on the loose, who was to say such a formidable shinobi wouldn't show up in Konoha to finish the job? The doctors were too busy fearing for their own lives with the chances of an attack that may never occur somehow happening. No one seemed to care that despite Itachi being such a powerful shinobi, he was still a boy left to silently suffer alone and unable to move from his bed.

"I'll go check up on him," she murmured softly and ascended the stairs without any protests. 

Sliding the shouji aside gently, she entered the room with soft steps padding against the tatami mats. His head was turned away from her but she could tell he was awake. He could never stay asleep when another person entered the room. It had been a long, long time since she had last been able to fuss over her first child and she felt a twinge of bittersweet nostalgia that those days hadn't lasted longer. She brushed aside his hair and felt hurt that he flinched under her touch, the touch of his own mother.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled as briskly as was possible in his groggy state.

"Do you have a headache?" she spoke soothingly.

_It's crushing, suffocating. As if it's been drilled into the concrete time and again._

"No." He would not fall for such a trick so easily. Her lips pressed together in a thin line. She wasn't even going to hide her disapproval anymore, was she. Though he earned it, he supposed. It was so disgraceful for a soldier of his status to be rendered so completely useless, especially by a little girl.

That made him pause a moment.

They weren't so different, he and that girl. Judging by how old she looked to be, how many had he killed by such an age? He had been so fantastically stupid to think she couldn't hurt him, after he murdered so many people when he was younger. Even so, what gave her the advantage? Because she didn't _want_ to die? No one wanted to die…

His mother gently tugged aside the fabric of his buttoned shirt to get at his vicious stab wound, perhaps to change the bandage. It was instinct, really. A reflex. It was a weakness to have an injury and even worse to leave it unguarded. Those preservation instincts left his brain wired on a different set of circuits than most. His hand lashed out and struck down the threat.

At first he recognized the twinge in his hand, the one he'd broken while back. As his realm of understanding expanded, he began to comprehend that he had assaulted the one known as mother, the first other. Being married to an Uchiha meant she herself was a talented ninja, though one who was sure to have a spectacular bruise in due time. Itachi now recalled the core principle of the Clan so clearly through the fog of memory.

To bring bodily harm upon a fellow Clansman is a treason more unspeakable than attacking even the Hokage.

He could see the accusation in her eyes now, the betrayal. And, perhaps, the fear. He had seen that look many times before, that fear. Mothers did not fear their children though, or rather, they shouldn't. He doubted she ever cast such eyes on her youngest son. No, not yet. Not until he grew up and stopped being his mother's child. He, too, would become a monster. 

Itachi scowled. That was true, wasn't it? How long until his brother's tiny hands knew the taste of blood?

"Someday he, too, will be lying in a bed like this."

He could sense his mother's confusion as her fear slowly ebbed back into normal ranges. It was fine, though, if she didn't understand. She wasn't really supposed to know, anyway. Not until her baby boy lashed out at her, as well. Though in all honesty, he couldn't say she didn't have it coming--

With a silent snarl, he quelled the nonsense rattling in his mind. He was an Anbu captain and, more importantly, an Uchiha. He'd already committed enough sins against both names in the past few days to soak a lifetime. They expected more from him than this.

They always expected more.

"Does it hurt much?" Itachi finally asked.

"N-no," his mother calmed and answered again with more conviction, "No. I'm sorry I startled you."

"The blame is mine alone," he answered blandly, "It was not my intention to react in such a manner."

She seemed to accept that as a satisfactory answer and he could venture that she would not report his capital crime to the elders. Then again, perhaps they already possessed a punishment fitting his disastrous mission. A knock at the door snapped him away from his reverie as he listened to the soft dialogue between his mother and the maid. Bruise? No, it must only be a shadow crossing her features. She was not injured. A visitor? Anbu? Yes, send him in.

The Anbu soldier entered and bowed to his mother, though somehow seeming informal, before she excused herself. It seemed that the Anbu's vision lingered on her swelling cheek before she slipped from the room as silently as her entrance. 

"You're late," Itachi muttered. 

"It's not so out of the ordinary, is it?" Kakashi pushed his mask back, showing his face. He took a casual seat on the floor, making sure to have the wall there to recline against. "I figured you would need a few days to adjust."

"You figured wrong."

"Yes, well…" The silence expanded upon itself, though both already knew where this conversation was going. "You know they're not going to accept your answer, that you don't know anything."

"On what grounds?"

"You're the Uchiha prodigy."

Itachi's features tightened at the reminder. One might have thought he was some sort of god with the way this backwater town thought of him. This was such a small place in the big, bad world. There were little girls out there capable of tearing down this entire village with her own tiny hands. "The people of this town are very foolish."

"Perhaps," Kakashi agreed flatly, "Though you've never given them a reason to think otherwise."

"Hn."

"So what will your statement be?"

"If they're so interested, why not ask that girl you found." Itachi scoffed.

Kakashi quirked an eyebrow at that. It was very unlike Itachi to remember a nameless homeless girl that happened to be caught up in a shinobi fight. There had been countless children like her tossed by the wayside on their missions, most of who probably died right then and there. Not once, however, did Itachi ever seem to register they were there. What made a girl who was not a shinobi, and nothing like an Uchiha, a better candidate of knowing the identity of the mystery assailant? She likely would be unable to even detect such a presence before she was already cut up.

"She disappeared along with the medical-nin's supplies. There's no reason a civilian would be of much use to us, anyway."

"No," Itachi said with an uncharacteristic sigh, "I suppose not."

Kakashi rose to his feet and slipped his mask back into place. "Tsunade should be here within the hour. Try not to aggravate your wounds further before she arrives."

With a puff of smoke, Itachi was left alone in his room and Kakashi had regrouped with fellow Anbu members.

"Sir?"

"He's hiding something. Track down the girl," Kakashi ordered crisply before departing with his squad. 

* * *

He felt better, generally. His knee was still tender but it could support his weight and that would be sufficient. The tightness in his chest would fade soon enough. It would not complicate his abilities on a mission, at any rate. Though neither of these facts erased the tension from the supper table. His father obviously knew the shadow on his mother's face was not a shadow. His eyes, unlike his mother, held wariness and disappointment. They emotions themselves weren't so surprising, not as much as it was all so blatant. 

A shinobi must never show emotion.

His brother's banter was cheery and nonsensical and perhaps would have been a pleasant distraction, had anyone been in a more agreeable mood. For now, it was only background noise to the thoughts absorbing Itachi's mind. There would come a day when his brother would no longer talk with such enthusiasm. That day was close.

He murmured his excusal and abandoned his seat at the dinner table, the seat that had always been empty more often than not. Before he could vanish into the unoccupied section of the house, his father's gruff voice spoke up. 

"Tomorrow, they will be holding a service."

He'd forgotten that, somehow. One of his squad was dead now. His killer was still on the loose somewhere, though he couldn't quite understand now why he let her live. It wasn't out of mercy or compassion. If anything, it may have been kinder to let the others kill her when they had the chance. She didn't have much of chance at a tolerable life.

"I'll prepare your good clothes," his mother murmured.

"That won't be necessary," Itachi answered, "I've already accepted responsibility for the incident. There is no need for me to attend."

Both of their faces darkened and even his brother understood that something wasn't right, despite the fact that no one ever told him what was happening. Serious talks like this were never meant for him, or so his big brother had told him once.

Slowly Itachi's mind came to grips as to why he let such a dangerous girl live. She had something no one in this one-horse town could give him. It was that reason that he chose at that moment to begin searching for her.

"Where are you going?" his mother called after him.

"To find answers."

His mother continued declaring he wasn't ready to go back out on mission, not so soon after the last. Not after the disaster. She didn't need to say it for him to hear it. His brother was whining about the injustice of it all. His big brother just got back so why did he have to leave again? They were supposed to train together, after all. His little brother would have to forgive him. There was something important waiting for him out there beyond this place and he would stop at nothing to find it. He would never relent.

It was what everyone expected of him.

* * *

She was tired.

She had been wise enough to let the medical ninja set her broken wrist and kick-start its healing process, plus the supplies she stole were first-rate. But she wasn't very good at sewing, least of all her own wounds. It had made her a little queasy and it constantly was coming undone. She really didn't want to waste all the bandages on this one stab wound but it kept spilling everywhere. It wasn't really an option for her to stay in one place either, especially if that shinobi squad changed their minds and decided to pursue her.

She had no direction, no destination. It was a little warmer in this place with its own sort of coldness. It wasn't so much starch as it was the color of dull-blade steel and the rain made her feel generally uncomfortable. She hadn't found much in the way of edible food during this leg of her travels, though admittedly lacked the energy to give much effort to the hunt. 

Now she found herself underneath a leafy tree that kept most of the rain from pelting her and seemed as good a time as any to have a smoke. Some of the older wanderers said it was as good a companion as any to have on the road. Its flavor was acrid and left a sour aftertaste at the back of her throat but it wasn't any more or any less appealing than anything else. It wasn't as if she had much experience with companions, anyway.

Needless to say, it was a rare moment for her to encounter the same person twice. It left her feeling an unnatural sense of ambivalence, floating somewhere between defensive and amused. 

"Now what brings ya out to this way?" her tone was easy while she twirled her chipped kunai.

"Have you got a name?"

"Maybe," a smirk tugged at her lips, a sensation that felt all-together unnatural for her mouth, "Why you wanna know?"

"I want to know what to call the one who will teach me how to overcome the human fear of death."

The Death known as Uchiha.

Her speed was remarkable, surprising him enough for her fist to crack across his jaw. He staggered back and wiped away the blood streaming from his mouth. "You gotta lotta balls comin' all the way here an' demandin' all this weird shit. Why the hell shouldn't I kill ya right here an' now?"

"I have no plans to allow a repeat performance of last time. You should consider yourself fortunate that I am even foregoing my duty to request your services."

"And who are you that makes ya so fuckin' important?"

"Itachi of the Uchiha Clan."

"You think that means shit ta me?"

"Not really…"

Itachi was surprised actually. He had never met another shinobi who hadn't heard of the great Uchiha of Konoha. This girl was an odd one. Even if she wasn't tied to a village, someone who fought as well as she did was bound to have heard the name at least once in her travels. She fumbled for another cigarette with mild irritation since she had been in favor of punching him in the face rather than hold onto the previous one. He figured the girl was a few years younger than he, though from her height and bone structure he imagined she had to be older than his brother.

It dawned on him suddenly, something he had heard from an elder long ago. That to know a person's name meant to have power over them. Yet he so foolishly gave his away…

"I have food I can give you," he immediately catered to her primitive instincts. Anyone who would kill a man for an MRE would likely be captivated by such an offer. Her poker face was rather impressive for a child who was raised without the stringent sort of the traditional nindo so heavily embraced by the Clan. Even so, his eyes remembered their abuse far too well to ever miss the smallest of details. 

"It poisoned?" she asked casually. Her hands were jammed in her pockets with her cigarette managing to stay alive between her lips. But all the tobacco in the world wasn't going to quench her obvious hunger. He tossed her one of the rice balls his mother insisted he take with him. It was a far more tolerable compromise than her insisting he stayed at home. 

The girl was hesitant, sniffing for any obvious toxins. He doubted she had the schooling to detect if there was something poisonous in the food but humored her for a stretch.

"It won't kill you. It was made by my mother."

Her shoulders jerked at the word. It wouldn't be surprising if the girl had a horror story about the death of her own.

"You have a mother?" she kept her eyes low, only the little flame of her cigarette keeping her from looking so bleak and colorless.

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing here?"

She didn't sound angry, though he couldn't recall her ever having any particular emotion in her voice. She was just a blank page, in plain view but impossible to read.

"I assume you lost yours."

The girl shrugged, taking a drag. "Don't remember her. Don't remember anybody. All I ever had was the road." 

Itachi nodded once. It was another familiar story out in countries like this, ones very different from the peaceful little place he came from. It was a land like this that gave birth to shinobi with blades much sharper than his own. It was here he would find the strength to compensate for his failed combat mission. It was his responsibility to do so.

She turned away from him and for a moment he thought she was leaving until she plopped back down under the tree. He assumed her biting into the rice ball was a signal that she was at least going to leave him alive, if nothing else.

"It's Yanagi, by the way," she stated between bites, "My name."

"Is it the name your family gave you?"

"The first time I ever killed somebody was under a willow tree."

Itachi had no longer held doubts or misgivings about his decision. This was the road to power, a path without the night terrors and cold sweats. He could still save face and stand before his family yet. With enough strength he would no longer be the Clan's lap dog and he could save his brother from enduring the same fate. He knew the answer now.

He needed only the strength to kill this girl.

MRE: Meal Ready to Eat. Standard food rations issued to those of the military armed forces.

Nindo: Way of the Ninja. It sounded too awkward in English. Consider it the ninja equivalent to Bushido

Yanagi: Japanese name meaning Willow


	3. Ch 3: Our Secret

Ch. 3: Our Secret

He wasn't sure how it happened. It was rare for him to sleep without several cold-chill waking fits--though this time he had no memory of ever drifting off. He certainly hadn't expected to be surrounded by Anbu soldiers, even if they were his fellow teammates. He fought down the instinct to search frantically about for that Yanagi girl. If she were at all as impressive as he imagined she must be, she would have been long gone from this place.

Then again, if the ever reliable Anbu had located him in such an obscure place, it may also be dubious to assume she could have escaped. 

"Are you injured?"

"No…" Itachi murmured absently in response. His phantom wounds still echoed through his body and he felt generally stiff from sleeping against a tree but it seemed Yanagi hadn't graced him with any fresh injuries. He'd have to check for his wallet, though, when he got the chance. When there wasn't anyone there to scrutinize his ever action. 

"Might I ask what brought you out here?" Kakashi was cool and collected, no surprise there, "You know the Hokage doesn't think so highly of personal vendettas."

"And I suppose you would be strong enough to capture someone who was capable enough to defeat even me?" Itachi couldn't help but be a tad bit smug. None of these Anbu could even touch his ability, not even Kakashi and his fake eye.

"It's pretty convenient that we ended up in the same area, though," Kakashi remained rather nonchalant about the situation, "Considering you have no memory of who your attacker was."

That sent Itachi for a jolt. He had been so incredibly confident that he had control of the game that he hadn't even planned out an entirely convincing bluff. No doubt his subordinates would pick that apart. He would have to be certain they didn't see through his stone façade.

"If I didn't know any better, Itachi-kun," that superior tone made him wretch inside, "One might think you were hiding something."

"What would I have to lie about?" Itachi rose to his feet, his knee felt stiff, "Further, why does it surprise you that a shinobi of the Uchiha Clan would have the instinct to hunt someone down?"

The reminder of who he was and where he came from was none too subtle a hint, nor was the underlying threat. Kakashi, being who he was, still managed to appear unimpressed, even when his fellow squad members grew more outwardly tense. 

"I'm not surprised in the least," Kakashi answered, "that you could find a young girl."

Itachi managed to fight off a scowl. A ninja must never show emotion. Kakashi was good, very good. Unfortunately for him, he was facing the representative of the Uchiha Clan and there could be no one better. Itachi simply could not allow himself to be caught, not that wretched little girl either. But perhaps she was already their prisoner…? No, she wasn't the type to lie down without a decent body count. That much, he was certain of. 

Itachi imagined the Anbu would continue the battle of wills and words, waiting for him to make a mistake. That was, until a rustle in the tree above caught their attention. Without warning, a kunai was launched into the branches only to be followed by an oppressive pause of silence. The Anbu prepared for possible retaliation but were only rewarded with a skewered squirrel dropping to the forest floor. It was an animal native to the area, as far as anyone knew, but the best course of action was to check if it was simply a transformation jutsu. 

Sure enough, though, it was just a fuzzy lump of matted, scarlet-stained gray fur pierced through with a knife. Another Anbu prepared to explore the actual branches to make sure no one was hiding up there but Kakashi called him off. "If anyone had been there, that person is long gone by now. We'll take our leave here," he turned his back to Itachi, "I assume someone of your caliber can find his own way back."

Kakashi looked over the weapon heavy with animal blood. Its point was dulled and its edges chipped and cracked in places. This was a weapon that knew blood well. He made sure to hold onto it in complete confidentiality. This was his and Itachi's little secret. 

I know your lying.

And I'm going to find out why.

In a cloud of smoke, the Anbu were gone and away from Itachi's ears. Only now could the others find their tongues. "Kakashi-sempai, was that wise?" a feminine voice was muffled by the mask, "To speak so coldly to Itachi-kun? He's the heir to the Uchiha—"

"I'm not intimidated by who he is or who they are. I'm still in the Clan's good graces, somehow," his hand absently ghosted over the left side of his face, over the eye, "He may be a great prodigy, but even Itachi must obey the rules as a Leaf ninja."

* * *

Itachi felt like sighing, a characteristic that was rather uncommon for himself. Kakashi was just playing with him now and they both knew it. He was just waiting for Itachi to make a mistake. That simply wasn't an option now, though. There wasn't anyone left in that village who might offer the challenge he needed, save for maybe the Uchiha Clan themselves. But to ask for help from them would show weakness and undoubtedly be seen as an insult. He needed to become stronger or else face further disgrace to the Clan. 

Even if it meant harboring the murderer of a fellow Leaf shinobi.

Some rustling indicated his bane's descent from the tree but he hadn't really been surprised to know she was still around. He had picked up on her nearly non-existent chakra after that kunai had been tossed in her direction. No doubt the others had, too. Itachi shook his head. It would do him no good to contemplate too heavily on what the Anbu actually had in mind for him. If he could become even stronger, then it would help Konoha and the Clan. An unorthodox approach, yes, but one likely to bear highly coveted fruit. He doubted they would mind if it was useful in the long run.

"You really are a weirdo," Yanagi leaned backward, hands on hips, until she heard a satisfying pop, "Why the hell 'ya keep coverin' for me? They could smell you was a liar from a mile away."

Itachi had intended to answer that question, relatively. But the glint of crimson that caught his eye pulled at his attention instead. He knew now where the other kunai went, settled firmly in Yanagi's thigh. It seemed she absently noticed it as well and pulled it out with a rather unceremonious yank. As he assumed, pain wasn't a remote deterrent in her mind. She then proceeded to focus attention on skinning the squirrel; evidently she decided it to be her next meal. 

"It was impressive of you to use that animal as a decoy, even after being injured."

"It wasn't a decoy. I was just hungry," she quipped, seemingly far more engrossed in her task than the conversation at hand. Even preoccupied, she somehow seemed rather relaxed and contented with the situation. She was far better at it than Kakashi. "I didn't really care if they caught me or not, anyway."

Itachi's mood darkened at that statement. It was understandable to a point that perhaps she, being a simple countryside girl, didn't fully comprehend the magnitude of his decision to hide her. Maybe she didn't know the consequences he would face if found out. Perhaps she didn't realize what the Anbu would have done to her if she had been taken prisoner.

"And what would you have done if you were captured?"

"I'd just kill them all."

There was no boasting in her words, no showmanship. She was completely confident she could take on all those elite warriors without a second thought. Either she was a complete fool or unbelievably dangerous. Itachi's instincts led him to believe it was likely the latter. He had to know…

His knuckles caught her cheek sharply and she smacked her temple into the tree waiting on the other side. Yanagi had been stunned by the attack and was slowly wobbling to her unsteady feet. Once she could relatively reestablish her balance, her ferocious eyes found him again. She was certainly strong but her reflexes were dim. Unless she was focusing completely on a fight, she lacked the great speed she had shown during their first encounter. She definitely was still a clumsy and untrained fighter in some respects.

" 'The hell was that for?" she growled. Irritably she wiped off the blood running from her scalp with the back of her hand.

"I want to know what it is you live for," Itachi answered blankly, "Why do you struggle and put yourself in situations where you are constantly wounded? What drives you to live when you are forced to scrounge for every meal? When you have no place to call home?"

" 'Cause this is all I ever had."

In return, Yanagi clocked him solidly in the face and knocked him to the ground. She seemed to be as furious as she could manage appearing; Itachi's eyes found what they might describe as resentment sewn seamlessly into her features.

"If you have such better things waitin' back home, what're you doin' here?"

Itachi thought briefly of his brother but shook off the afterimage. The countless other pictures burned into his mind by the Sharingan were enough to brush aside any lingering sense of doubt. He knew perfectly well his Clan needed his power and image to support their reputation. And when he returned, he had every intention of presenting improved versions of both. But Itachi knew it wasn't actually him at all that concerned the Uchiha Clan. A shinobi was merely the arms and legs of whomever they served. They were not an actual person in they eyes of their superiors.

"Nothing waits for me there."

Itachi hastily pulled himself to his feet and spat out the copper taste of blood assailing his tongue. The little brat of a girl really did pack a mighty punch. This time Itachi did sigh and turned away. "We should head to the nearest village," he decided and sensed her growing skepticism, "I'll find you something better to eat."

Yanagi made a noncommittal noise which he decided could be taken for agreement. She also seemed to be following him, albeit begrudgingly, but he supposed it was still a good sign. He paused a moment as something occurred to him. Yanagi was strong but probably had never truly been hunted before. "When you're looking for food, it's dangerous to eat anything that leaves behind remains. Any kind of trail only makes you an easier target."

"Oh."

So she actually hadn't known that. She really was an amateur child at this, though who would have expected anything more from her? Before she met him, she hadn't needed to worry about hiding. It was just as the whisperings of Konoha said: everything the Uchiha touched, only destruction followed. Sadly, he could not argue with the old gossiping bints this time. The nature of the shinobi meant to do exactly that. Destroy. And like all other things, the Uchiha Clan was far too proficient at it.

"You should take off that damn headband. It's way more noticeable than animal bones."

Itachi blanched wholeheartedly. The forehead protector had become so keenly apart of his identity as a ninja that he hadn't even given a second thought to it. Perhaps some part of him was no less of a child than his unusual companion. He unfastened it with some hesitation before slipping it away into his pouch, an unknown sense flooding his veins. 

"I wanna stay at an inn," Yanagi announced, earning a sideways glance, "It's been a long, long time since I slept indoors."

Itachi could feel a slight twinge of irritation but his habit of silence was far too ingrained for him to say so. Considering he likely gave the kid a concussion, it probably wouldn't do too much harm to pay for a room. It would most likely be in his best interest to keep her mood agreeable. This lost little kitten had sharp claws and could turn on him at any time, should she deem it necessary. If he kept Yanagi dry and fed, she would likely remain somewhat compliant to his demands. 

* * *

He made sure to keep his hackles raised at all times once inside the village limits. There was always the chance of being spotted by the Anbu and being caught in a public place would further the damage to the Uchiha name. It was strange, though, to walk through a town and not earn so much as even a glance. Without anything to identify him as a member of the Leaf or the Uchiha prodigy, he simply faded into the background of this gray land. 

The anonymity of it, the simple and quiet freedom…

He liked it.

Was this what it was like for her, he wondered, the peace and quiet. 

He didn't miss the mild scrutiny of the hostess when they arrived at the inn. Two young people soaked and showing signs of a scuffle probably earned at least one raised eyebrow no matter what the establishment was like. It wasn't a luxurious place, to say the least, but Itachi hadn't intended on staying the night. Indulging Yanagi's every whim would make her spoiled and therefore useless. He needed to keep her sharp. They would only dry off, eat a little, and rest a little. It was too big of a risk to stay in one place, anyway. 

The room itself was drafty, its wood soft and rotted. But surprisingly there was functional kotatsu* situated in the middle of the room. Moreover, it seemed Yanagi had never once been introduced to such an item. Itachi supposed that this village, being near Fire Country's northeast boarder, must have had some influences reach here by now. It also led him to believe that Yanagi was also an import to the area. 

Even though the heat of the kotatsu seemed comforting, Itachi took up residence against the window. An escape route. It also kept a safe distance from Yanagi, should she try to catch him off-guard. For now, she was enthralled with the idea of the table and the food they purchased. Proving to still be a child at heart, she had requested a chance to try dango and Itachi let her do as she pleased. Though he refused to share in her sampling of new foods. Somewhere in his faded book of memories, he recalled a member of the Clan mentioning that sweet things were for kids and not warriors.

Itachi never tried dango.

Somewhere in the midst of watching the strange child before him, Itachi's mind slipped away into sleep and dreams. The stench was horrendously filling and made the back of his eyes water involuntarily. His hands felt likes stones hanging from his arms, the blood hadn't yet dried. He had been told that these people were part of a large crime family. They were a terrible threat to the Leaf and to all lands. "Don't feel guilty about your actions," he was told. 

The infant squirmed towards its unmoving mother, the woman who would never hold it again. Like a worm, it slithered along the ground and soaked itself the most unsightly shade of red. All to be held. 

This person will grow up and want revenge. 

End it now.

Itachi cut down the worm. Its tiny fingers were frozen, always seeking those damn arms. He did the right thing, stopping the weak and clinging from evolving. No one held ever him. No one let him be weak. His mother would sometimes tremble in his presence. His fingers grasped blisteringly tight to his weapon, an unknown wave coursed through him. He brought the blade down again. And again. And again. And—

Later he was told a lot of clichés. It had to be done for the greater good. It was better safe than sorry. It was the responsibility of the ninja to follow all orders. But something was passed onto him that he hadn't forgotten to this day.

It is a child that always becomes the greatest of threats.

* * *

Itachi woke with a start. His hand stung mildly and he stared blankly at the burn on the back of it. Yanagi sat back on her haunches with a crushed cigarette between her fingers. 

It is a child that always becomes the greatest of threats.

 "You sleep too expressive," she grumbled before crawling back to the warmth of the kotatsu. 

"I was remembering something," he murmured idly as he attempted to regain his wits, "I always remember…"

"About what?"

"Home."

"Heh. Seems like a shitty place to me," Yanagi rested her head against her folded arms, the heat already made her drowsy.

Itachi found himself wanting to agree but couldn't find the words to say so. They never allowed him to think such and now he wasn't sure if he even knew how. It wasn't so terrible, he had to believe. He was well-respected, so long as he carried out their every demand. They had trained him to become a powerful shinobi, even if he might have lost something he couldn't quite place his finger on. The nightma—memories would surely be easier to cope with in due time.

"It's an…oppressive place," he whispered. 

"Then why not leave?" her eyes were already closed.

"Because it's all I have."

* "Kotatsu" – Japanese tables are traditionally low to the ground. A kotatsu is this type of table with a heater and has a blanket to cover the legs with.


	4. Ch 4: Enough

**The Second Birth**

by Mizerable

Ch. 4: Enough

This couldn't last.

All the sparring matches led to plenty of new scrapes, but very little in the way of answers. It was clear that his training and his blood were superior to hers. He should have won every single fight, though her damned stubborn ways seemingly kept her from staying down for very long. Not to mention she managed to surprise his eyes enough to earn not only hits now and then, but decisive victories.

But none of this improved his situation whatsoever. Itachi couldn't even be sure what it was he sought anymore. He wanted to reclaim his honor, but for whom? This wasn't about him at all. It was about the Clan, just as all things were. So just what was he doing here, with the enemy no less? Wouldn't this only make things worse? Perhaps it was a subconscious discomfort to know that he, the so-called "prodigy," could be bested by this child. The unusual prickling at his pride must have been how the other villagers felt about him. They stayed their tongues out of reverent fear of the almighty Uchiha Clan.

But what kept _him_ here?

What did this child have that made her special, that made her will so strong?

_Freedom._

_The freedom to let her spirit expand without bounds._

Itachi felt the onset of a frown and dispelled it before addressing her.

"I can't stay here any longer. It's time for me to return to my village." He was fairly certain he felt whatever was left of his heart grow smaller, his insides turned hard. Yanagi, on the other hand, scuffed her toe against the dusty earth. A little cloud of brown circled her feet while she kept her gaze set on it. It was a nervous habit she had, a tweaky resemblance of a childish pout. She always kept her head down when she didn't want to show her disappointment, or whatever it was she felt.

"I thought you didn't like it there."

His instinctive reaction was to agree with her words, but his ingrained teachings kept the reply locked away in his mind.

"It isn't about 'like' or 'dislike.' I am merely complying with what is expected of me."

"Why?"

He didn't really share the beliefs of the village, nor did he completely dispel its fundamentals. While he could not say the same in regard to the Clan, they were family and that was somehow supposed to be valued above all else. An image of his brother flickered behind his eyelids and that was nearly enough to convince him things were okay there. But aside from the Clan? Aside from the little brother, what exactly drove him to throw himself so completely into a role that served him in no way on a personal level?

Suddenly it felt as if she were the one gifted with powerful eyes, eyes that were so carefully regarding him at this moment. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to take her thoughts and shape them into words, something that hadn't taken him much time to realize was a difficulty for her. Though evidently, now was not one of those times.

"But if you can't devote you—yourself to it completely, what's the point of doing it at all?"

Itachi did not answer, for he did not possess one.

If he did, he would not be here with Yanagi.

He would be…

Perhaps, maybe, he would be.

* * *

There had been no dramatic sendoff or heartfelt goodbyes. Yanagi would likely head north, diving further into Cloud Country as its rainy season approached. It would be far easier to dodge any pursuers so long as the constant downpours were there to wash away her trail. Itachi, in a rare moment of compassion, turned over most of his money to her. It would be safer for both of them if she avoided robbing anyone for a while—her methods had a tendency to be somewhat excessive. If she were to be caught, he had no guarantee that she'd keep their connection silent. Perhaps compassion wasn't the best choice of words.

True to form, though, she hadn't whined about his leaving. Nor that his grueling sparring matches were probably much more taxing on her than she admitted. The ways he used and abused her to gain personal understanding were undoubtedly still better treatment than she would receive normally. Regardless of his supposed generosity, she made no complaints that it was coming to an end. Though, what she did say managed to stick out in his mind.

"If we run into each other again, let's get more dango."

Itachi wasn't a fool. She may have tried to sound casual by saying "if," which was surprising for someone like her to attempt protecting herself with words. But he knew to hear "when" instead. She was still young enough—likely only a decade old—that she still might grow attached to anyone who offered her an ounce of remotely decent attention. Itachi remained silent, watching her scuff her toe against the dirt, and was taken by the thought of killing her. Perhaps tricking her with a soft pat to the head. She would undoubtedly be startled enough and maybe even happy enough that he could bury a kunai in her throat without trouble.

And then what?

He came out here to find the secrets of her strength and came up relatively empty. He could chock it up to pure survival instinct but that didn't seem to satisfy his mind. He knew if it came right down to it, he did have the power to kill her. But what would the point be? It wasn't as if he could bring back her dead corpse and say he found his crew member's killer. Too many people knew who she was and then his secret would be out. Leaving her alive would be a liability though.

She'd given a small wave to him after she turned towards her path. All he seemed capable of was staring at her tiny shape as she faded from his view. He hadn't accomplished anything he set out to do, and yet he could only continue to do nothing but watch her go. And strangely enough, he found some peace of mind in that. Somehow, to him, it almost felt as if he won some sort of unspoken battle with the Clan. He so brazenly defied their code and even if nothing was changed from it, even if they somehow never knew of his actions, he had no problem in relishing in his small personal victory.

Even so, he still pondered why he was convinced she would have died happy, so long as it was by his hands.

* * *

The massive gates of Konoha loomed before him and for once he felt their seemingly insurmountable height. Each step filled him with a vague sense of unease, the tips of his fingers twitched in anticipation of…something. Itachi hoped to shake his foreboding, though his anxiety was hardly unfounded. Kakashi knew Itachi was hiding an Anbu killer. Now it was all a matter of what Kakashi decided to do with such information. Blackmail and shady deals were far from strangers to the Uchiha Clan. It wouldn't be particularly uncommon for someone with the sort of information that Kakashi possessed to perhaps attempt to pressure Itachi.

Maybe he would want a promotion within the Anbu. Would he even want Itachi's own position?

It was a tough call. Kakashi knew how the Clan operated and that alone was a liability for opportunism. What would it take to not only keep Kakashi silent, but prevent the Clan from gaining involvement?

Upon reaching the checkpoint, it was not a nameless chuunin waiting. It wasn't the familiar Anbu, either. She had a toothpick in her mouth and tapped her foot impatiently, undoubtedly waiting for quite a while. The evidence of dark rings around her eyes had finally started to fade. They said she was a recovering power addict, having been caught up in the Orochimaru mess years ago. She was a supposed special agent now, perhaps for the intel department?

"Hi there, Itachi-kun."

Her smile was unnaturally cheerful, defensive even.

"…Mitarashi Anko-san?"

"I'll need you to come with me. It's rather urgent," she stated, not at all ashamed of showing her irritation over waiting for him, "I trust that won't be a problem?"

"No, ma'am. Not at all."

He knew this place. The shadows felt heavier in this dim room, the cement felt indestructible here. Yes, he knew of the interrogation chambers. He was seated before a metal table, Ibiki Morino himself looming on the other side. Ibiki was polite enough to offer coffee, which Itachi quietly declined. Frayed as he was, he wouldn't put it past the people here to slip something in his drink. He needed to keep his wits about him to successfully evade any line of questioning.

"Now normally," Ibiki began, his gruff voice rumbled though the heavy room, "we'd have to turn you over to the police department. But seeing as how you outrank everyone there, you fall under my jurisdiction."

_And quite frankly, I'd have to be a damn fool to just let your family sweep this under the rug._

"Sir, what exactly are you charging me with?"

Ibiki tossed a plastic bag onto the table with a sharp clang. Itachi kept his eyes fixed on that table. Within that bag was a kunai. A chipped, bloody, rusty kunai. There was cold, hard evidence staring him right in the face. What lie could he even conjure that someone like Ibiki would believe?

Kakashi really didn't mess around.

"We've got you, Uchiha," Ibiki pressed his palms against the tabletop, "So hand the little girl over and I just might find it in my infinite mercy to be lenient with you."

"…I'm going home."

Itachi's chair scraped harshly against the floor and Ibiki's menacing face was hardly a deterrent. His large hand took a tight grip of Itachi's wrist, jerking him back around.

"You ballsy little punk. What makes you think I'll let you just walk out?"

Itachi slowly raised his eyes to Ibiki, catching the man by surprise. Though it should be noted that the sheer appearance of Mangekyo is said to surprise people. Ibiki's fingers slipped away as he stumbled back. He couldn't rightly guess what just occurred, though Itachi was now standing in the doorway. The boy looked calm as ever, the darkest of eyes staring back.

"Sir, you would have better luck at finding god before catching that girl."

* * *

The doorway seemed narrow, lower to him. Everything constricted like hands dragging him down, the brand of the Clan scoured into his back. The adrenaline from forcing a man of Ibiki's status to back down had long since worn off, leaving Itachi very tired.

His eyes ached.

Vulnerable as he was, Itachi managed to be caught off-guard as his brother rounded the corner. He could barely sort out words through the haze of Sasuke's hurried speech, though he seemed just as happy as always.

"…learned fire jutsu…"

He waved a dismissive hand at his little brother, far too rattled to spare attention for anyone else. Though it did very little to chase Sasuke away.

"…Father praised…"

Like Itachi cared what that man thought. He'd soon become a rather enraged person once news of Itachi's recent conduct reached his ears.

"…to draw out my Sharingan…"

The words finally hit him like cold water. The Clan decided to begin Sasuke's training to awaken the Sharingan? It seemed so sudden, though maybe he shouldn't have felt so surprised. He was far younger than Sasuke had been when his own training began, towards the end of the war. Though Itachi simply couldn't shake the feeling that, perhaps, the Clan was trying to replace him.

Kakashi must have reported to more than just the intelligence department, after all.

"Brother?"

Itachi felt the tug at his shirt, Sasuke's fingers still chubby with baby fat held on with seemingly impossible strength for a child. That sense of fear that was becoming more and more familiar in the eyes staring up at him. Sasuke must have realized something wasn't right.

Itachi mumbled a promise to show Sasuke a shuriken technique to help with his Sharingan training. It was a promise he'd undoubtedly break, but it got rid of that look on Sasuke's face. He ruffled Sasuke's hair as reassurance, though he didn't dare glance back again. A little hope was better than no hope.

The brothers filed in for supper, and both subdued for once. Not wasting any time, their father extended an object towards Itachi. He immediately recognized the Hokage seal marking the scroll and had no doubt the contents would be rather unpleasant.

"I trust you're aware what this is in regards to?"

Itachi bristled, almost visibly preparing to take up a defensive stance. It would be just like his father to make his downfall even more excruciating. His hand wrapped around the scroll white-knuckled and pulled his jaw a little tighter.

"I have a general notion about it."

His father gave a curt nod and handed over the scroll without another word. Perhaps his parents didn't care to entertain such a conversation in front of Sasuke. He supposed if he didn't have to worry so terribly about saving his own neck, he might have held a greater dislike for his brother's upcoming days. He could only hope Sasuke would lose his naivety fast enough to be aware of the dangers being an Uchiha meant.

His mother brought the food to the table with a soft indefinable smile. That sort of expression made him generally uncomfortable and he could only ponder endlessly over the scheme the Clan had in mind for him. Even though supper passed by in silence. Even though the evening passed by in silence. He still waited for their judgment. Itachi knew it would be a far worse ordeal to receive punishment from the Clan than during his court appearance before the Hokage tomorrow.

_Tomorrow…

* * *

_

He tried not to focus on all the countless mistakes he made. He knew if he had killed that stupid girl that very first meeting, he wouldn't be in such a futile situation. He slowly slipped his shoes on, perhaps subconsciously trying to postpone today's meeting. He knew Sasuke was waiting behind him, asking to practice shuriken jutsu. Itachi couldn't recall the mumbled promise he made last night. All he could say today was he was busy. Ask father.

_They're going to have you replace me anyway..._

He paused, heavily contemplating that thought. His clumsy little brother was going to become just like him, a through and through slave to the Clan. There was nothing he could do now. He was going to face the high court today and likely face a lengthy prison sentence, if not death. He couldn't save Sasuke. He couldn't even save himself this time.

He was just so sick of everything…

"Forgive me, Sasuke," Itachi gave his young brother a poke to the forehead, "Maybe another time."

The familiar words slipped by so easily. He supposed it was somewhat tragic that it was likely the last time he'd ever speak those words to Sasuke. Itachi opened the door to a world of blinding light, leaving his brother in the dark.

And so went a dead man walking.

* * *

"He's late."

The Third didn't need the committee to tell him that. Of course he realized Itachi was late. He'd been watching the sun travel the sky rather than dwell on the oppressive tension in the room. The Hokage could safely admit he wasn't surprised by Itachi's string of "outbursts." Now that the wars were more or less over, he could examine what had become of his soldiers. Needless to say, it broke his heart to see children as young as Itachi walk around with such hardened hearts.

As the Hokage, he could understand the need for strong-willed shinobi to keep this village afloat. But it still didn't erase his sense of guilt of any ninja, Itachi included, having suffered so terribly. If only things were different. If only…

"I imagine," the Third spoke slowly, "that Itachi-kun won't be coming today."

And in some way, perhaps it was for the best.

* * *

He watched the sun fade and the shadows stretch. The coldness of the moon did nothing to improve his mood. He was just so tired and just so fed up with everything.

He was sick of the rules.

He was sick of the tension.

He was sick of the headaches.

He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere. He wanted to tear everything down and rip it all apart. He was through with this game. He was through with suffering for them.

He came upon them like a whisper, his blade fell softly through.

His voice remained cool and direct as he imparted words to his young brother. Someday his brother would understand it was all for the best. He'd learn to be strong for his own damn reasons. He'd know a life without the goddamned Clan breathing down his neck. This was all for the best.

This was all for the best.

And maybe his brother would heed his words. And just maybe he'd be strong enough to…

Itachi was just so sick of it all.

To be continued…


	5. Ch 5: Ally

**The Second Birth**

by Mizerable

Ch. 5: Ally

* * *

_Fifteen months..._

It seemed like a much longer time had passed since then, and yet not such a long time. His travels led him away from the agreeable Fire Country climate and into lands even the Hunter-nin would avoid. Along the dangerous border between Cloud and Water, known commonly as "The Horizon," was a no man's land. It was here in this jagged land the worst of the worst thrived. Criminals, savage nomads, mercenaries—the law of the land was that there was no law.

This was the only place fit for someone of Itachi's credentials.

_Mass-murderer._

That's what they called him. And, of course, that was very true. At age thirteen, he picked up the sword and erased his wretched Clan. Though he'd yet to find that sense of freedom or euphoria he imagined would have followed. So many months and so many miles later, he found himself soaking wet in a gray town with nothing to his once-golden name. Nothing, save for the weight of a heavy crime.

Itachi let his feet stop, let the rain pelt him mercilessly. There was nothing familiar here, or anywhere these days. But what truly got under his skin was that absolutely nothing had changed. He still hadn't obtained what he sought. He wasn't sure what he sought. He should have known there was one thing to expect here, though.

Her hair was longer now, as to be expected. She grew a bit more and perhaps gained a bit of muscle in their time apart. She still had a scar running lip to chin from when his blade clipped her. And she evidently still smoked in the rain, just like the stubborn child he thought her to be. She, too, paused in the rain to get a good look at him. Through the mist and drizzle, she knew his face so clearly. It surprised the words right off her tongue. In her rush to fill in those holes in her defense, maybe she showed a bit of hope.

"It's been quite a while, Yanagi."

She settled down a bit, her stonewall façade perfectly on display again.

"What brings you 'round a place like this? You got a mission or somethin'?"

"…No. Not so much."

He was almost startled, perhaps, that her reaction was not stronger. Fifteen months of hard travel after he…He imagined she must have heard the news by now, especially in a criminal's sanctuary. He realized that it may have even seemed like betrayal on her part to not realize what he'd gone through.

"Don't you know?"

Yanagi regarded him for a moment and he sensed her confusion set in.

"Nope. Ain't heard a thing," she answered blandly. Her feet shuffled against the loose gravel street as she breezed past him. He imagined she hadn't much of an intention to hang around any longer. After all, she wasn't the type to stick around long enough to run into the same person twice. Three encounters had to make her suspicious.

"Tell me over supper."

And just like that, he was sitting in a rundown shop while she devoured dango, just like she said she would. Still such a child…But he wasn't so focused on her, or on much of anything for that matter. He stared out at the falling rain, though didn't see the gray day. All he could watch was a late summer night with its full moon and its heavy stench of death.

"They're all dead, you know," Itachi's features remained empty, "My Clan."

Yanagi paused in mid-bite, her mouth hanging open dumbly as she looked over at him. Recovering herself, she made sure not to skip a beat.

"Oh? There a big war out your way?"

"…I killed them."

Itachi remained ever the statue despite her stare turning angry. He couldn't blame her, he supposed. Being the orphan that she was, Yanagi really didn't know any better. She didn't realize what a burden a family could be. But he imagined it would be futile to explain it to her. She couldn't understand his reasons. She'd always had the freedom to do as she pleased.

"All of 'em?" Yanagi was on her feet now, likely ready to storm out, "Even the lady who made you lunch?"

Itachi could have pointed out that "the lady" was his mother, but he doubted the clarification would have mattered much to her. Yanagi was too sensitive to physical things, especially when it came to hunger. She'd defend anyone who gave out free food. Lunch or no lunch, Itachi knew better than to take anything with the Clan at face value. Even if Yanagi thought he simply took such things for granted.

"They were hardly saints. I'll say that much."

Itachi was almost startled by how easily his true thoughts spilled out. Never once had he let these sentiments be heard aloud. Yanagi shrugged and settled back down, perhaps thinking a family was overrated. Either way, she was calm and quiet again—and that was what suited Itachi best. It's when that silly girl spoke that he was always forced to reexamine his situation.

"So what're ya gonna do now?" she asked regardless of her full mouth, "A place like The Horizon offers a lotta work for people like us."

_"Like us," she says…_

Being grouped with a common murderer had yet to sit well with him, and he wondered why that was. He'd always been a murderer. Just not the right kind…? Was there such a thing as being a justifiable murderer? And, of course, he had an answer to that thought just as quickly. No one could ever question the acts of those in power. And the damn Clan had been righteous enough to convince people there was nothing to even debate.

_Had been…_

That was over now. He needed to figure out what to do now with his days, just as Yanagi pointed out. Itachi supposed keeping her around would probably prove to be rather useful. If she managed to keep herself alive in this place, he had no doubt that her skills had remained sharp. As for what she wanted…he supposed that didn't really matter. She likely wouldn't have cared much one way or the other.

But there was something odd about The Horizon. Being as full of dangerous criminals as it was, it proved difficult to completely keep track of every soul lurking about. Even Itachi and all of his power hadn't realized they were being watched.

* * *

Days pass in the town of quiet chaos without much notice. Itachi came and went, just as Yanagi came and went. It was easier on their tight budget to rent a room together, though they tended not to flutter too closely to one another. Yanagi slipped in with a soft sigh as she shook off the rain. She took note of Itachi slouched at the table, a grim expression gripping his face. Only after a few moments did she notice the piece of paper in his hand. She found it strange that only a few strokes of ink on paper could make a person so subdued.

"What's it say?"

Itachi didn't answer right away. He was slow to rise as he left the letter facedown on the table. He presses his palms against the wood surface, possibly even more serious than usual.

"It's an invitation," he says quietly.

Itachi didn't pay much attention to Yanagi as she flopped down onto a chair. He vaguely heard her wonder if the sender paid well. Well, she was intuitive enough to guess it was more than a simple party invitation. He didn't bother explaining the truth of that letter. No one with the sort of power that this so-called Akatsuki likely bolstered simply invited people. He knew his appearance was mandatory. Though that was just as well anyway.

It's not like he had anything better to do.

* * *

"It is our hope that you find our offer to be acceptable."

Itachi remained silent. He really had no real reason to turn them down now. As he rose to his feet, he paused at the door. It seemed there was something he had to ask, after all.

"…There is one suggestion I would like to make."

* * *

Itachi returned to the inn, somehow unsurprised to find Yanagi sleeping rather unceremoniously at the table. The overflowing ash tray made him wonder if she'd spent the entire time waiting for him to come back. She probably didn't want to be stuck paying off the hotel bill alone, he told himself.

"Do you plan on remaining my ally?"

His soft voice seemed so terribly loud in the silent room. Though Yanagi didn't stir, so he was convinced she was still asleep. He planned on retiring to bed when the mild rasp of her voice snagged his attention.

"Ain't got a reason to stop."

Her voice was muffled against her folded arms and though she didn't turn to face him, Itachi could sense her relief. He could only imagine what it was about his presence she took any sort of comfort in.

"Gather your things. We're leaving."

"Is this some sort of joke?"

* * *

It was a different meeting place than last time, but the same dreadful people were gathered. And they were not pleased. Though he couldn't rightly blame them for doubting him. He knew all too well how unobtrusive she seemed.

"It is not my intent to insult you," Itachi spoke in as polite a tone as he could manage. The Clan had him well-trained in that regard. "I would not implore you to consider such a recommendation if I didn't believe it to be such a worthy venture."

Yanagi seemed uncomfortable here, though it was undoubtedly from kneeling for so long before the…committee. Her features remained generally vacant and Itachi imagined she was possibly even bored being here. Either way, she undoubtedly had no idea how dangerous the situation might prove for her. But if there was a chance they would recognize her seemingly impossible strength…

"And what do you have to say, little girl?"

"I'd say a bunch a'guys all wearing the same stupid-lookin' cloak don't got the right ta say shit to me."

A wave a surprise and perhaps outrage at her audacity passed through the group. They certainly hadn't expected such a little brat to be so arrogant. Though after the members let their pride settle, it occurred to them that she was still calm. Did she not understand the situation she was in?

"Need I remind you," a voice rumbled, "that any of us could kill you without warning."

"Try it."

Yanagi reached for her sword but Itachi kept her hand at bay. He glanced with unabashed Sharingan at the group. He wanted them to remember exactly who he was. "This child," his voice was even, if not a little condescending, "has managed to even kill an Anbu elite without much effort. It would be foolish of you to pass judgment on her mere appearance."

_For I had been a fool, as well._

Regardless of his past errors, the Inner Circle seemed to heavily contemplate this new prospect. With Orochimaru's desertion, there were actually two spaces left to fill. To gain the Uchiha prodigy as a member would be an undoubted success. But more interesting was to have a young man of his capabilities demand the acceptance of that little upstart Yanagi. She truly was proving to be quite an intriguing find. There really was nothing left to ask, except…

"Well, little girl, what will your answer be?"

* * *

They walked the rocky path together in silence. Bare and knotted trees weighed heavy with rot along both sides, yet this place still felt so impossibly wide. It was quite an exhausting hike back to The Horizon and Itachi somehow doubted they would be returning there. Yanagi had yet to answer the Akatsuki about their offer and seemed—angry—about it. Itachi wasn't one to even venture a guess about what she found so distasteful about their organization. They hardly were carrying out acts any more despicable than what she could accomplish on her own. They merely worked on a larger scale, as it were.

"Are you serious?" her voice finally found itself, "About joining them…"

"What is it you find so disagreeable?"

Killing is killing, after all…

Yanagi turned to him with terrible anger in her eyes. Yet he could still not place why she was so furious.

"You believe in their cause? Lots more than your Clan's?"

No. He really didn't care at all about what they wanted to accomplish.

"I wish to test my limitations. And I believe this is the best course of action to take for that purpose."

That's what Itachi told her, but leave it to that girl to speak with such commanding words and not even realize their power. Find his limitations? Was that what it was? He vaguely recalled her asking the point of doing anything at all if he couldn't devote himself completely…

"Seems like a big senseless waste," Yanagi stated more calmly than how she probably felt, "Why get caught up in such dangerous stuff for no good reason? It's too damn risky, if ya ask me."

_I don't wanna die._

He should have known she would be scared of joining the Akatsuki. As tough as she was and as daring as she was, Yanagi wasn't the sort of girl to risk her life for mere ambition. She killed out of necessity, nothing more and nothing less. He should have realized she would turn down such an offer.

She stopped walking now, freezing up at where the forest gave way and let the road open up into the clearing. He could tell there was something more she wished to say, her eyes hidden behind a veil of hair.

"You ain't even realized it, have ya," her little fists trembled at her sides, "Ain't you had enough a'being somebody else's tool?? It ain't gonna be no different than that clan a'yours."

"I know."

_But I don't know how to live any other way._

Yanagi's small features took on an overwhelming look of surprise when his sword slipped between her ribs. Her spine smacked against the rough bark of a tree as the tip of his blade pierced through its wood. Her breath came as short misty puffs in the cold autumn air, her unspoken words drifting away like clouds.

"It's a shame," Itachi's voice was soft near her face, though somehow undefined, "That we couldn't remain allies."

Yanagi didn't cry. Not once. She gripped at his shirt, perhaps trying to reach for his throat. All of this just came as such an unwelcome surprise. That's what she'd tell herself when looking back on that day. Blood spilled over her lips as a warm and disconcerting contrast to the cold air. Her chest hurt so terribly. She could hardly breathe through the horrid pain. Her feet could not keep their bearing, now that the ground grew heavy and red.

Itachi's callused hand was cool against her cheek as her hair fell through his fingers. His breath was somehow calming against her ear. Words were spoken to her, ones she wouldn't learn to completely comprehend until years later. But they would nonetheless be her guide, through rain and though hardship.

* * *

"Truly unmerciful," the voice was vaguely familiar, "Just as I expected, Itachi-san."

The man, if he could be regarded as such, stood a great deal taller than Itachi. His skin was a cold and clammy blue; his features appearing not so unlike a shark. An Akatsuki member…

The shark-man went on to commend him for showing such loyalty to the organization, even going so far as to silence his own friend.

Itachi tried to tame his scowl. He did not like hearing her being referred to as such, as a friend. All he wanted was to have someone to join with him so he would not have to worry about being totally surrounded by potential enemies. Though that couldn't be right, either. It wasn't as if he ever trusted that stupid girl. She was a huge factor in his downfall. It was her fault he was in this state.

Though even he could not deny there wasn't much difference now compared to how things used to be. Nothing ever really changed. And suddenly it occurred to Itachi that he was rather dissatisfied at this turn of events. It wasn't "silencing" Yanagi that particularly bothered him, either.

As he walked on, he grimly realized it was the surprise that got to him. Surprise that she chose not to follow him, after all. She had the conviction to truly follow her own path without one other soul. While he chose…

Itachi chose captivity.

Nothing ever really changed.

_…It's a shame._

To be continued…


	6. Ch 6: All Hail the Queen

**The Second Birth**

by Mizerable

* * *

Ch. 6: All Hail the Queen

* * *

This sort of cold was undeniable. 

She was without vision. Her wrists twitched with sharp ache, sensation was rather lacking in her fingers. And her chest…It was agony in some ways new and some ways old. A voice came to her, close yet far away. She imagined it was off to the side probably, only now coming to terms with the blindfold over her eyes. Further assessment of the situation brought her to realize her hands were bound behind the chilled metal seat she occupied.

Her first thought ought to have been why she was in captivity. Instead, she wondered why she was still alive.

As if sensing her very thoughts, whoever was there with her explained how they'd given her a blood-stopping pill. She didn't have to worry about checking out just yet. Yanagi figured thanks were due, despite the situation, but no words came out as they removed the blindfold. Yanagi didn't need useless words now. She could only focus on their forehead protectors: Cloud-nin.

"It sure was good fortune to find you outside The Horizon. In such lousy condition, no less."

Yanagi could only let a bitter and, perhaps, resigned smirk tug awkwardly at her mouth. As if her day hadn't been crappy enough…

"Do I know y'all?" She tried not to let the surprise over her strained voice be so transparent.

"No, not us. But you sure knew a bunch of our fellow shinobi, not to mention citizens," he paused and Yanagi knew she didn't like that sort of silence, "…before you killed them."

Yanagi knew. Not even that she'd killed a few Cloud residents along her travels, though that was undoubtedly true. What she understood so clearly at this moment was true and utter defeat. She'd lost this match before it ever even began. How incredibly stupid…

"You're wanted for murder and theft from here to the desert. You must've known you'd get caught."

Yanagi didn't answer. She let her hair shield her eyes and kept her head down. Her chest hurt too much for her to have words. She hadn't thought a goddamn stab wound could ache like this, gripping like a vice. It was so raw and somehow felt so empty. On top of it all, it also dawned upon her that she was scared.

"So now comes the fun part," one of the Cloud-nin tugged hard at her attention, "You get to tell us all about who you work for."

That…wasn't at all what Yanagi expected to hear. She didn't belong to anyone but herself. She could at least get past her fear well enough to say as much to them. She certainly hadn't anticipated one of her captors to jab his thumb into her chest wound. The roughness of his skin within the dry cauterized hole left pain in its wake that was simply mind-bending.

"Don't lie, bitch. Our spies have spotted you with Uchiha Itachi himself!"

Yanagi didn't want to hear that name. It was his fault she was even in this place. It was his fault her chest ached so terribly.

"Shit…Why the hell's everyone so interested in that punk…?"

Something blunt struck her across the bridge of her nose. She imagined it to probably have been a kunai handle. At least, that was her thought before realizing she just gave herself away. No talking her way out of this one…

"'Punk'?" came the echo, "He's one of the most notorious mass murderers in recent history!"

"You should be glad _we_ got you instead of Konoha," another spoke, "Their interrogation specialist is a real son of a bitch."

That ninja was missing an eye. He clearly knew of Ibiki firsthand.

"Feh," Yanagi bit back a coughing fit, "I heard them Uchiha people had it comin'."

None of her captures made any arguments over that. The Clan had been a powerful weapon for Konoha and had always been a threat to the Cloud. But the most dangerous one of them all was still out there. And this little brat was the one who knew him.

"Look, I don't know shit about what him and those cloak-wearin' freaks are up to, so piss off."

_Cloak wearers?_

That was something the Cloud-nin hadn't heard about. Had Itachi joined some sort of group? This girl knew far more than she was saying. And they fully intended to gain everything they could from her.

They had her by the hair as they dragged her down the hall. The stone floor beneath wore against her skin and left behind a trail of bruises and scrapes. Her bound hands were raised above her head as she was hoisted off the floor. Her restraints caught against a hook dangling from the ceiling, as her dangling legs barely let her toes drag against the ground.

"You see this?" a man held up a whip as he circled around her, "This thing's loaded fulla' rock salt. It sure ain't gonna feel too pretty."

They wait for her to say something, anything, in their last moment of compassion. The snap of the whip against her back made her whole world flash white.

"Where is the Uchiha?"

"Like I care about that ambitious fuck…"

Crack!

* * *

The days pass much like this one. Her captors picked apart her brains, snagging out the small bits of vital info that Yanagi never considered important. Had her mind been a little less rattled all the time, it might have occurred to her that these sessions had turned less into interrogation and descended into pure freebase torture. 

A few of her captures held the belief that if she were going to make their job so difficult, they should at least try to get _some_ enjoyment out of it.

Yanagi's shoulders gave a jerk when the door grinded open. The sting of light contrasting the silhouette of a man did little to ease her nerves. That image never led to anything good.

This one had a sharp sort of laugh and likely a jagged glass smile to go with it, no doubt. It was hard for her to sort out his words from the general buzzing in her head. Though she swore she heard mention of the wounds on her back. Perhaps they were infected…Though it didn't really matter how bad they were once her shirt was ripped away. The fabric pulled away from her skin with a sticky tear and let her wounds burst right back open. He kept behind her, holding her hips as the shudders ran their course through her body.

As her brain tried to reset itself, she slowly became aware of his large hands sliding up her raw hips, over her bruised waist, raking across her ribcage puffy with edema. She didn't like the way his hands felt on her. She vaguely felt his words stab into her mind. Something along the lines of wondering what it would be like to have Uchiha's bitch. She wanted to point out (once again) that she wasn't Uchiha's _anything_. But Yanagi couldn't take those words out of her mouth. This new torture was unfamiliar to her and something instinctively told her she hated this session more than anything else.

His mouth was sloppy and humid against her dislocated shoulder. His big stubby fingers grabbed at her, probed her, and she generally felt uncomfortable. Her eyes focused on an unimportant stretch of wall as cloth was tugged down her thighs. She thought of misty days before she lost the sky to this stone cage. She thought of once-spoken words that fluttered by like an intimate kiss in her memory. She would remember.

Yes, she would remember.

* * *

Another shape slips into her little gray world of concrete. He didn't have a stinging laugh or a howling whip. His motions flowed and somehow made her think of butterflies. He never spoke of his fellow shinobi when it came to some of the depraved acts they rendered against this girl, this _child_. No love of country could make him do things like this to a little girl, no matter the knowledge she possessed. 

He brought a cup to her lips yet the liquid did not quench her thirst as she hoped. It was stupendously bitter and left her throat aflame. She gagged and sputtered and eventually it went down. She heard him murmur it would help with the pain.

"It didn't have to be this way," he spoke softly, "If you only told us the truth, you wouldn't have suffered so badly."

She didn't answer him, though he hadn't expected her to. She hadn't spoken in weeks, not even to be insolent. She hadn't even screamed, no matter what sick things were done to her. He wondered what a girl like her thought about during times like this. He offered more bourbon to her lips and she was more gracious this time.

"A lot of people are going to die," he wasn't sure if such a plea made a difference to such a seemingly callous murderer, "We can't stop the Akatsuki threat as we are now."

It didn't seem she was paying attention to him. Her good eye was at half-mass and the other swollen shut completely. She was so quiet and so very still.

"Please…tell us any weakness you can think of."

Yanagi never analyzed any opponent, not once. Her instinctual nature always managed to keep her head above water. She never thought about how to fight or how to survive. She never knew why she could win. The more she heard of Itachi from the Cloud-nin's perspective, the more she questioned her fights with him. They just didn't seem to be possible, given the facts. Perhaps she dreamed them all.

"I don't know," she mumbled, "Don't know how I ever beat that guy."

Her captor didn't hide his surprise. He, too, had long been wondering how such a weak little girl ever managed to kill _anyone_. He certainly couldn't picture her being on par with the likes of Itachi. He can't hold back his frustration with the entire horrid situation. If she was so powerful, why didn't she flee from this place?

"I prob'ly ain't that strong," her eyes traced the cracks in the ceiling, "I was left to die, you know. By him…"

She couldn't look this Cloud-nin in the face. Something about his wide eyes bothered her.

"Guess I kinda had it comin'. Ya don't get ta tell people like them Akatsuki folk to fuck off without out it comin' right back at you."

"All this time…you were their enemy? Why didn't you say anything?"

Yanagi shrugged and her lips curled up in that peculiar way they sometimes did.

"Heh…Maybe you didn't ask the right questions."

"You're facing execution."

Yanagi didn't need anyone to tell her that. She'd known it all along. She knew better than anyone that she'd done more than enough to earn such a sentence. Long before the Akatsuki. Long before…

"Do you want to die?"

She never thought about it. She'd just kept living and living so pointlessly. It never occurred to her that it didn't have to be that way. What did she really want? She had nothing in this world, no one. She was like a stupid dog that didn't know how tiring it could be to chase her tail. There was no place for her anywhere. The only thing she ever had was her life and—

"That's a stupid question."

There was movement and noise and now her little room was crowded full of Cloud. They've got quite an unusual proposition for the little girl who just wouldn't quit. One little mission.

"Eliminate the Akatsuki," they said.

Yanagi didn't scoff right in their faces, but she knew perfectly well what a suicide mission entailed. But it would buy her a little more time. She'd at least see the sky again. There wasn't too much more she could ask for.

"If you manage to pull this off, we will reconsider your punishment."

Yanagi being Yanagi, she demanded a guarantee. She wasn't a good person, she told them. She didn't care about saving anyone. If they expected the impossible, she should at least get the same in return. They told her she's arrogant. But if she ever managed to win, who were they to kill possibly the greatest ninja to ever live.

"I'm no ninja," she replies blandly, "I just suck at gettin' killed."

They let her go, busted up and ever so determined, and they wondered if it was a dangerous choice. She might go right back to the Akatsuki.

"No," their commander says, realizing something "She's too much of a child to deceive anyone… She really _would_ make for a lousy ninja."

* * *

The hunt was on and Yanagi was longer who she used to be. Even if decades hadn't passed, no one dared to assume her to be a child. No, not anymore. People could be impressed that she made inquiries after the Akatsuki, though not because she was young. They found her to be audacious for asking at all. At first, she was turned away without so much as a grain of rice. But there was something peculiar about her presence. Perhaps in her eyes, people could see the gun against her head. She was charging headfirst to her death and it'd be a terrible waste to let someone so determined to survive just go head and die. 

But it was more than something so stupid as sympathy to make anyone in this day and age lend a helping hand. Word was getting around about her pact with the Cloud. If there was anything in this world that could comfort someone, it was a second chance. If only to see one more sunrise, it was worth everything.

Yanagi rarely found information, but didn't walk away empty-handed. She gained followers.

And on one dreary and unimportant day, Yanagi marched right into the Raikage's office. He said nothing about how she got past security and just hoped she had something worthwhile to say. She started off by asking if he was aware of how large the Akatsuki network had grown. Hearing those words didn't please him in the least and demanded to know what she was going to do about the situation. Yanagi plainly spoke that she knew exactly how to tear them down. It was quite a simple strategy, at that.

"Grant amnesty to my crew," she said.

The Raikage was furious with her. He could perfectly guess who made up her "crew." What right did a crazy girl like her have to pardon other criminals?

"If you wanna win a war, you need an army," she stated, "Unless you'd rather me turn them on you…?"

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing now what a mistake it was to let her live.

"Well, Captain," his sarcasm ate up his fears, "What should I call your kamikaze soldiers?"

"Aohi."

"…You really are an idiot."

Yanagi's mouth pulled itself thin in that not-quite-a-smile sort of way.

* * *

Yanagi drifted out into the expanding world, and it seems to be a much different place than she remembered it to be. The walls were closing in and she knows death is waiting for her. But she pulled her shoulders back. She kept her chin high. 

She's never had anything of worth. She'd be damned if she let them take her life, too.

To be continued…

* * *

Note: The joke behind Yanagi naming her group "Aohi" is a Japanese play on words. Aohi means blue sun. Akatsuki sounds like it should mean red moon, but it's actually an old-fashioned word for dawn and implies completion. Yanagi isn't educated enough to know that though. 


	7. Ch 7: Thank You

**The Second Birth**

by Mizerable

* * *

Ch. 7: Thank You

* * *

They'd always taken great care to keep their secrets exactly that. Secrets. To learn members in their now-vast network were turning up dead was an unsettling discovery. Somehow their very existence was being pulled into the light and they were _not_ pleased about it. Furthermore, with no distinct traceable techniques or centralized location, it was proving a difficult task to gain any significant leads. 

If there was one thing for certain, it was the tragedy to follow when their attackers faced retribution. The Akatsuki would make sure of that.

* * *

It had now been four and one half years. It was a small feat to keep track of time when all the days fell together with an undeniable sameness. Or it should have been, had he not been so gifted at memorizing details. Regardless, Itachi didn't care much for his situation one way or the other. And he certainly couldn't bring himself to be interested in the so-called Akatsuki hunters. 

After all, criminals were bound to be caught sooner or later…

Even ones like him. _Especially_ ones like him.

The only information of note he'd come across lately was news from his hometown. It seemed the Hokage had died at the hands of Orochimaru. He wondered if he should feel proud to know he succeeded in scaring the old snake right out of the Akatsuki. Instead his thoughts traveled to another rumor, one that claimed his brother was sick. Or to be more specific, he'd been cursed by none other than Orochimaru himself.

Perhaps he should have killed that man when he had the chance. Not that he was worried. It wasn't in his nature to be concerned about anything, and he certainly didn't have reason to be.

Or maybe he no longer had the _right_ to be…

He definitely wasn't getting any answers from the glass sitting before him. Most of the other members were trying to find a woman for the night, while he stared grimly at his reflection. Itachi was far more interested in the silent companionship of wine than having a warm bed. It wasn't as if he ever stayed anywhere long enough to let the warmth stick. He supposed it was ironic that he was becoming just like her—

Itachi dragged out a heavy sigh. Perhaps he drank too much this evening, as his thoughts were taking a turn for the worst.

Besides, he long sensed someone in the bar was watching him. He slouched forward, not wanting to be bothered by any desperate women or anyone hoping to pick a fight. He just wanted to rest. He chose to drift away now and slipped into his hotel room without a sound. He was being remarkably careless tonight, not having his Sharingan activated, not even sensing there was someone else in the room. The figure descended from the ceiling and stole up from behind, a hand coming round to keep a knife at his throat.

"You're better than I expected," he remarked plainly.

Itachi hadn't imagined the hunters to be such pros, considering how flashy and inconsistent their attack patterns seemed to be. Who were they, he wondered. They didn't quite have the feel of standard government-issued Hunter-nin. High-powered yazuka, maybe? Perhaps they were Sound-nin. Orochimaru was just the type to eliminate anyone he saw as a potential threat, and could do it in the worst fashion. He'd certainly be on a power trip from killing the Hokage.

"I'd hate to disappoint."

It had to be a joke. That voice…Instead of preparing for battle, his body relaxed like still waters. All the miles and spilled blood in this world could never wipe away the memory of her.

"Che, you could at least _act_ threatened," Yanagi said with a shove.

He turned to face her, recalling the scene of three years ago. An ash-smeared sky and gnarled trees dripping with blood. It was actually somewhat of a surprise that she seemed to look worse now compared to then. He did not bother to share such an observation with her.

"If you came to kill me, you should have done so while my back was still turned."

She didn't say anything. Though Itachi rather imagined he was still alive simply because she still had something to tell him. He considered being patient with her, but then rather doubted he could afford to take such luxuries with her anymore.

"Is this a personal vendetta?" he asked calmly, quietly, "You didn't seem the type."

"Nah, it ain't personal…This is a declaration of war."

Itachi stiffened. She seemed to have grown a little harder in their time apart. Her eyes didn't have their usually fiery glare, but were the flat purple of winter dusk. She was not the person he used to know. Even so, he could guess what brought her here now.

"Hmm…a mercenary?" It seemed a logical guess to him.

"…Somethin' like that."

"Then I'll assume this is not a one-man job."

" 'Course I need soldiers to win a war."

It was sort of strange, Itachi realized. Even though he knew what brought Yanagi before him again, he still didn't _truly_ know why she was there. Why would a girl who was always so scared of dying take a job this risky? And she even seemingly amassed a militia to help with the task? That didn't seem very like her. There was definitely something she wasn't telling him.

"Who is your employer?"

"You're gonna have ta try better than that to get answers outta me."

She was far more closed-off than he ever remembered her being. He supposed all children had to grow up some time. With the life she led, it was surprising she hadn't been so cold right from the start. Then again, no one had ever given her a chance. But he'd jammed the tiniest sliver of hope in her dead end street. She knew now there were bigger, better things in this world that she could never have. She learned that from him. This right here was a creation of his own making.

"Do you remember what I told you?" Itachi's voice was plain and bare, "From that day."

"I don't," she answered briskly, casually folding her arms across her chest.

"Then I suppose there's nothing left to say."

They stared across the empty space between, feeling its emptiness and its heaviness. As they prepared to take action, a rumble shook the building to its core followed by smoke and heat. No, this was not a one-man mission.

"We call ourselves Aohi," Yanagi announced unexpectedly. Her decision to give him any information would be her last moment of compassion towards him.

Kisame burst into the room, sword at the ready, and expected Itachi to be caught up in the fighting. Itachi's eyes flickered to the shark for a moment and returned to Yanagi only to find smoke curling in.

"Be on your guard," Itachi warned, "We're at war."

"Who do you suppose our enemy is?" Kisame smiled in that same disgusting way again.

"One with a leader as efficient as she is stubborn."

"Oh? You believe their captain to be a woman?" Kisame let that hideous smile stretch, "I didn't think you acknowledged any enough to guess that."

"No," Itachi let his eyes flicker shut, "Just one."

* * *

More time peels away and the warring factions, Akatsuki and Aohi, continue to expand their empires. Yanagi's…persuasive nature had earned contracts in quite a few nations now. Having political immunity in most major countries certainly made life a little bit easier for Aohi. Even so, she could still feel it. The noose was getting tighter and the walls were closing in. 

She was running out of time.

For all their success, no one from Aohi had been able to approach the Inner Circle. Not since her encounter with Itachi in a smoky hotel. And was that already two years ago? It bothered her now that she hadn't killed him when she had the chance. Offing one of the top Akatsuki members would have given her a lot more breathing room. She knew her "sponsors" were growing rather impatient with her lack of significant progress. For all the lower-level shinobi the Aohi killed, there were ten waiting to replace them. The core needed to be destroyed to finally put the Akatsuki in the grave.

She'd known that, even two years ago. She knew she could have killed him that night while his guard was down. Why on earth did she ever let him go? And she even gave him information about her group…It annoyed her that if she hadn't been caught by the Cloud, she wouldn't have had to think about him again. He, like all things, could just fade away from her life.

On the flip side, would she have even survived if she hadn't been taken into custody? Yes. She would have lived. Yanagi knew without a doubt she would have stayed alive. Because—

It occurred to her now that the climate in this area was quite a bit warmer than what she was used to. She probably had traveled further south than she was supposed to, as she had no contract with anyone in Fire Country. Even with the possibility of getting killed just for passing through, one of her crew heard substantial rumors about high-level Akatsuki possibly being in the region. The possible payoff was far too great of a chance for her to pass up.

That Aohi member, she recalled, was a former Cloud-nin. He'd reminded her of butterflies…

She followed the river as her guide deeper into Fire territory, keeping herself a shadow amongst the tall trees. Her frustrations began to mount as she continued to find nothing. Just as things seemed to look doubtful, she spotted a pair of those stupid cloaks. And she certainly had no problem pointing out how conspicuous they were, either. Well, in her own words anyway. She managed to remain smug in appearance when Itachi turned to face her. Kisame did not bother hiding his surprise upon learning the rumors of Yanagi's survival were true.

"Hello, Captain," Itachi murmured.

Even though Yanagi wasn't particularly good at sensing these sorts of things, she could tell Itachi seemed rather uneasy. Perhaps he was bothered by how easily she could always sneak up on him.

"I been meanin' to return this," Yanagi unsheathed her sword, the one Itachi used years ago to pin her to that tree. Even Kisame knew better than to get involved this time and stepped back from the fight. They say great warriors can read each other's minds simply by fighting. Their blades met with heavy clangs and even with his Sharingan, even though his sword cut deeply into her hip, she could tell there was something greatly off with him.

"You're pretty sloppy today."

Itachi didn't say anything in defense. Even as he watched Yanagi spiral airborne, he did nothing to defend himself as her heel smacked into his temple. He just let himself crumple to the dirt in a graceless heap. He was losing this fight, but that wasn't what occupied his mind. Itachi remembered. Things he'd done since he left, terrible and unpleasant things. He thinks of his wine that always tasted of blood. He thinks of a pretty girl with green eyes, one that was no less unfortunate than Yanagi. One that he ruined, just like Yanagi.

He thinks of his brother.

Yanagi's determined face, and her fist, are the last thing he can see before falling into the dark. It is a surprisingly soothing place.

Yanagi didn't get a chance to have a sense of satisfaction, or even the killing blow, before being broadsided by that ridiculously large sword. She hit the nearest tree with a splintering snap, and just as quickly hurled blood over the dusty earth. Moving seemed quite the impossible task but Yanagi being who she was managed to get out of the way before being smashed again. Taking advantage of the dust cloud created from Kisame's attack, Yanagi hid herself up a tree and hoped the shark wasn't drawn to her blood. It seemed at least a small bit of luck decided to befriend her, as Kisame chose not to take any chances of Aohi reinforcements arriving while Itachi was incapacitated.

The Akatsuki took leave, for now.

Yanagi kept her perch for a good while, leaning back lazily and letting her breath calm. The fight put a few questions in her mind, which she just as quickly brushed aside. She made a slow descent, knowing she didn't have time to waste on thinking. She made her way to the river intending to clean her injuries. She hadn't expected to find a stray cat left to die.

She wouldn't let herself think about how his face resembled Itachi's so greatly. He was only a source of information, she told herself as she packed his stab wound. She never thought of the task as an attempt to save the poor creature. Even though his weight was heavy against her back, even though she had to stop often to re-bandage his wound, she had to get back to Cloud Country and meet with her Aohi. She couldn't wait around for him to wake up and she certainly couldn't let him die before she questioned him.

When he came to, she hadn't expected such an angry boy to be waiting. He'd been so painfully peaceful before…

She tried not to show much interest when she heard his name. It was just a name. Just words. It didn't mean much. Though she never really could get past that.

"Uchiha."

* * *

It wasn't supposed to be this way. 

That's what Yanagi always told herself. She'd been so sneaky, talking that little Uchiha brat into being her underling. All she wanted was information about his brother. She wanted to kill Itachi and the rest of the Inner Circle. She wanted her life back. She'd been a manipulative and selfish bitch, only protecting him because it suited her needs. But things had been different with that kid. There was just something about him so completely different from Itachi. Something so consoling, something that nearly made her forget how bad things really were.

Damn him!

But suddenly it's three years later and she's in an old abandoned building having an old fashioned showdown. It's the last hurrah with those brothers and she somehow knew it all along. She fights Itachi, the little brother fights Itachi. Suddenly the pieces all come together and she feels like she's been hit in the gut with a sack of bricks. She gets everything now, she's seen the light, and she's a mighty bit disappointed to find Nirvana is a bitter pill to down.

She'd been quite the liar to say she'd forgotten the words whispered when she and Itachi parted ways.

* * *

"Yanagi," his voice was tumbly gravel by her ear. She was in bad shape, but she swore he sounded rather desperate. "I know you won't die from this. Take this second lease on life and do whatever it takes to stay alive." 

His breath was hot and fierce by her ear, like a dragon. His lips just tickled the edge of her jaw line as she quivered, cold and deathly. His palm rough with calluses scraped her cheek as his thumb grazed under her eyes.

"You see…I have a little brother. He's clumsy and weak and would probably just up and die if he ever got the chance. But there's only one thing in this world for him to accomplish. If he should struggle, if he should fall, you better be there to finish it."

* * *

Yanagi got it now. All the questions she'd hoped the little Uchiha could answer were things she really wanted to hear from Itachi. Now she held his baby brother against her chest, still a shaking stray cat and surprisingly devastated after the death of the man he swore to kill. She really had to hand it to Itachi for being a much better manipulator than her. He wound up dead and that had been precisely what he wanted. 

How had she not realized this sooner?

He may have chosen his brother for the task, but still depended on her just the same. Figures a guy like him would have a contingency plan. When she found a quiet moment to sort out the facts, she _really_ got what he had wanted to tell her. She'd been the catalyst to his leaving home. He faked killing her to save her from certain death at the hands of the Akatsuki. He entrusted his younger brother to her, the brother she shaped into a powerful weapon. Though she knew now Itachi would have been satisfied if _she_ had been his murderer. The only thing he'd ever wanted was a way out and he'd somehow known it was through her.

It was an odd way to show his gratitude, but Itachi was strange like that. He likely doubted Yanagi would have appreciated his thanks, anyway.

The only thing she ever really cared about, even more than the life she so desperately clung to, was a pair of foolish brothers. The older was a dear friend, a dear rival, that pushed her to find the strength to survive in this world. The younger was more than a dear friend and taught her to appreciate the world enough to save another life besides her own.

She never shared these thoughts with either of them. On an unimportant rainy night, she saved a life not her own and that was it for her. She never thanked those brothers in person, but then she never had to. The one who was gone already found what he sought, and the one who lived had a second chance. And Yanagi? She found purpose. No words of gratitude would ever sum up her thanks, and it was just as well.

Yanagi never cared much for words, anyway.

Fin

* * *

First off, I'd just like to thank everyone and anyone who stuck with this story 'til the end. A lot in my personal life kept me from finishing it as quickly as I would have liked, but I hope it was worth the wait. This story was much more of a challenge than "Wasted Years" but I think it was still an interesting experience. This will be me last story with Yanagi though, so I hope you won't miss her too much.

I do plan on writing another Naruto epic, though it's still in the planning stages. Once I make a more finalized outline, you'll start seeing chapters up here. It's my hope that all of you in reader-land will enjoy it as greatly as my other stories.

Much thanks,

Mizerable


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